Leave It to Claire

by Tracey Bateman

Oh, dear Lord.

  Somehow I manage to fake my way through the rest of the day and get out of there with my dignity intact, despite my suspicions that Darcy is pregnant. As I walk up the steps toward the second floor of my home, my safe place, I hear sniffling coming from Ari’s room. In the middle of a school day?

  “Ari?” I tap and enter.

  My daughter is flung across her bed, tears streaming down her swollen face.

  “Baby, what happened?”

  “Nothing, Mother. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Well, I’m sorry, but you are crying your eyes out in the middle of the day when you should be in school. You’re going to have to talk about it.” I don’t want to be insensitive, but I think sometimes a parent just has to demand answers. I mean, did she get into a fight and get expelled? Did someone say mean things about her? Did her panties fall down in the middle of a cheer? It could be anything.

  She sits up and leans back against her headboard, clutching a stuffed rabbit she’s had since her fourth birthday. Oh, boy. If she’s hanging on to Fluffy Bunny, this is bad.

  I get a wad of toilet paper from her bathroom. She makes use of it and hugs the bunny to her chest.

  “All right. Now tell me what happened.”

  Her lower lip trembles like she’s about to burst into tears again. “Patrick. He’s seeing someone else.”

  I’m not sure I heard that right. Does any boy have the audacity to choose someone else over my beautiful Ari? How foolish is he? “I’m sorry, honey. What happened?”

  “Trish told me she saw him with Shelley at the movies last night. Only stupid me, I got mad at Trish. Then today—” She shudders as another sob shakes her slight frame. She gulps. “Today I saw him actually kissing Shelley.”

  “He did what?”

  “Can you believe that, Mom?” Her tearful eyes meet mine. “I thought he liked me. He was so cool.”

  Her anguish is palpable and I move in, taking her in my arms like I haven’t since she was a little girl. She resists for only a moment, then relaxes against me. Her tears soak the fabric of my shirt, and my own tears run freely down my cheeks—totally feeling her pain.

  I’d give anything to spare her this.

  She pulls away. “Why can’t men just be satisfied with the women they have?” she asks as the anger part of this process kicks in. “It just doesn’t make sense. Shelley isn’t prettier, she isn’t skinnier, she’s not funny, and Mom, she’s dumb as a box of rocks. She’s just different. And Paddy has nothing whatsoever in common with her. Why do guys have to get tired of one girl and move on to the next? I really thought he was going to be the one.”

  “What do you mean by the one?”

  “Yeah, you know—the one.”

  “Oh.” I can’t help but be a bit disturbed that my sixteen-year-old daughter is thinking in terms of the one about the first boy she’s dated.

  “I know you probably think I’m too young, but I really love Paddy, Mom.”

  “I believe you, Arianna.” After all, I loved her dad when I was her age. Maybe if Rick had shown his true colors back then I would have been spared my heartache. Of course then I would have lost out on four amazing kids as well. “Ari, the two of you didn’t go any farther than what I saw that night on the bleachers did you?”

  Horror lifts to her eyes. “Mother!”

  “Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean.”

  She scowls and acquiesces. “We’ve never had sex, if that’s what you mean.”

  Yep. That’s what I meant.

  “We really both wanted to do what’s right. Paddy wants to be a youth pastor. He does want to wait until marriage. But he’s just…”

  “A teenage boy and sex is everywhere he looks.”

  She shrugs. “Something like that.” Her soulful eyes capture mine. “If I tell you something, you promise you won’t flip out?”

  “I never flip out.” But I will if she says she was lying and they actually have had sex.

  She rolls her eyes. “Forget it.”

  “Come on, Ari. You can’t set me up like that and then just say forget it.”

  A shaky sigh leaves her. “We didn’t have sex, but we did more than kiss.”

  Oh, Lord. I feel my breath coming in bursts. I know I don’t want to have this conversation, but somehow, I know I need to. If only I’d been able to speak to my mother about these things, I might have been spared a lot of heartache myself. Because Rick and I definitely didn’t wait until marriage. I lost my virginity in the backseat of his dad’s Delta 98 after his senior prom. I was Ari’s age. “Okay.”

  “It’s just… I wish I hadn’t done so much. I mean. To me it was special and I only let him because I loved him. But the thought of him doing those things with other girls… just tears me up.”

  I really want to knock this Patrick kid upside the head and tell him what a creep he is. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m sorry you have to deal with adult feelings now. You know, spending time with God helps. When you feel weak, the Bible says to run away from youthful lusts. Even those of us who are not so young have to run sometimes.”

  “Oh, gross, Mother. TMI, okay?”

  “Too much info. Got it.” I chuckle. I guess it’s just as well we don’t go there.

  “Love really stinks.” She hugs Fluffy Bunny tight. “I’m never falling in love again as long as I live. Guys are all the same.” She gives a bitter snort. “Just like Daddy.”

  My gut clenches. As much as I’d like to tell her they’re all alike, I know this isn’t true. Even her dad isn’t the same as he was when I was married to him. I know that. I really do. I guess it’s time to suck it up and admit it.

  “Ari, honey.”

  “I know, Mom. We’re in the same boat, aren’t we?”

  I shift around on the bed so that I am face-to-face with her. “No, we aren’t.”

  “But we were both cheated on.”

  “Not really. Your boyfriend broke up with you and started dating someone else. That’s not the same as a husband cheating on his wife.”

  A look of betrayal slides across her face. “I should have known you wouldn’t understand.”

  I stand. I know better than to try to reason with her when she’s all full of no-one-understands-me indignation. “For the record, Ari, I think it’s you who doesn’t understand. You can’t compare an eleven-year marriage to a few weeks of dating. You can’t compare a husband and the father of your children to a seventeen-year-old boy you barely dated. What your dad did, he did to me. Not you.”

  “It affected me.” The kid has her mother’s stubbornness.

  “That’s true. But he never stopped being your father. And whether you’d like to admit it or not at the moment, he is a good father.”

  “I can’t believe you’re taking up for him.”

  Yeah, you and me both, chickadee. “Can I tell you something?”

  “Is it about sex?”

  I grin. “No.”

  She grins back. “Then go ahead.”

  “Your daddy apologized to me.”

  “When did he do that?”

  “During our last counseling session. You know when it was just Darcy and Dad and me?”

  She nodded. “Wow, I thought you two must have fought during that one since you won’t even talk to him on the phone.”

  “I have issues. But that’s not the point.” I give her an even look so that she can see I mean what I’m saying from the bottom of my heart. “Your dad is truly sorry for the way he treated me. He cried and cried about breaking our vows, breaking up the family.” I swallow hard past a sudden lump in my throat.

  Her eyes widen. “Really?”

  I nod. “He isn’t the man he was all those years ago, Ari. So don’t compare him to someone who hurt you. He didn’t do anything to you but leave your mother.”

  She gives a grudging nod.

  “By the way. How did you get home?”

  A sheepish grin tugs at her mouth. “I knew you were at the luncheon, s
o I called Dad.”

  “He left work to come get you?”

  “He was heading home anyway. Darcy has an appointment of some kind today, and he said he wants to be there with her.”

  “Did he happen to say what kind of appointment?” Like I don’t already know.

  “No.”

  “Okay. No big deal.”

  Very big deal. Enormous. Ari has no idea how much her life is going to change in the next few months.

  “Hey, you want to go see a movie?”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. I’ll call Greg’s cell and see if the boys can ride home with him. And Jakey, at least, can go to Greg’s house and play with Sadie until we get home.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I should ditch school more often.” She tosses me a cheeky grin.

  “On second thought, maybe I should march you right back to school.”

  “Have a heart.” She jumps off her bed like she’s never heard of Paddy Devine. “I want to put on makeup first.”

  “Okay. You fix up while I call.”

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome, Ari. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you much the past few years.”

  “You were as much as you could. And at least you were in the house. Most of my friends have practically raised themselves. We had Granny, and I knew I could always come into your office if I wanted to.”

  “So you’re not scarred for life?”

  She laughed. “Not for life.” A serious expression passes over her face.

  “What?”

  “You know what I miss?”

  I shake my head.

  “Hearing you type at night. I knew something was missing. But I just put my finger on it the other day when you were at your desk for a few minutes.”

  “So it’s not going to bother you when I go back to work after your Christmas break?”

  “No. Because I think things are different now.”

  “You got that right.”

  And she does.

  27

  I’m leaving Wal-Mart with a vanload of Christmas presents, including Mom’s TV/DVR combo player, when I happen to glance across the street. A growl rumbles in my throat when I see Patrick’s love-mobile parked in the video store parking lot. On a whim, I drive over there and pull up next to the Mustang. I’m thinking it’s time for a little chat with Casanova.

  He’s behind the counter. A blush spreads across his face and neck when I stare him down. My stomach twists and churns with nerves as I’m forced to wait while he attends to the lone customer in the video store. The middle-aged woman smiles at the good-looking seventeen-year-old, clueless to the fact that he’s a groping, two-timing jerk. She leaves with her movie.

  I set my purse on the counter and clear my throat while Patrick pretends to be attending to something in the computer. He bites his upper lip. Lips that kissed my daughter. And Shelley, and no telling how many other girls.

  “Let’s get this over with, Patrick,” I say, suddenly infused with courage.

  The kid takes a deep breath and looks away from the computer screen, meeting my eyes.

  “How are you, Ms. Everett?”

  I know he’s about to throw up, but I’m having a hard time feeling sorry for him. A vision of Ari’s swollen eyes and red nose haunts me as I stare him down. “Well, Patrick, I’m not doing very well, to be honest.” I lean in. “Tell me why I shouldn’t go to your parents and tell them how I caught you handling my daughter on the bleachers, or share some of the information Ari’s given me about your dates. You can do a lot before ten o’clock can’t you, Paddy?”

  His face drains of color. “I care about Ari, Ms. Everett. If she’d just talk to me, I could explain.”

  My anger rises. “According to Ari, there’s nothing to explain. And don’t try to con me. I know all the excuses.”

  “I swear to you, I’m not lying. It wasn’t the way Ari thinks.”

  He looks so miserable I almost believe him. Against my better judgment, I fold my arms across my chest and cock my head. “Convince me that you weren’t on a date with another girl or kissing the same girl the next day.”

  “I wasn’t. At least not the way Ari thinks.”

  “Okay.”

  “My mom has been ministering to Shelley’s mom for the last couple of months. She knows Shelley has a crush on me and asked me to be nice to her.”

  I can’t help the harsh expulsion of laughter that pushes from my throat. “Come on, Patrick. Don’t yank me around.”

  “I’m not. I swear it.”

  “All right. Tell me why Trish saw you at the movies with this girl.”

  “Her mom is messed up. A druggie. Shelley was at the movies with some friends and got sick. She tried to call her mom to come get her, but she was so high when she answered the phone, she wasn’t making any sense. Shelley called my house and my Mom asked me to go get Shelley while she went to check on her mom. That was all there was to that. Trish saw us leaving together and assumed we were on a date. Ms. Everett, I’d never cheat on Ari. I care so much about her. I promise.”

  Call me crazy, but I believe him.

  “All right. I can verify this with your mom.” And I fully intend to do just that. “Tell me why you were kissing Shelley where my daughter could see you.”

  “Shelley interpreted me being nice to her as me being interested in her. I just didn’t know what to do about her. She sort of cornered me in the hall and kissed me. I didn’t kiss her back and I didn’t have my arms around her. If Ari really thinks about it, she’ll admit that she saw my hands on Shelley’s arms, pushing her away from me.”

  “I’ve heard enough.”

  “My parents know everything, Ms. Everett.” His eyes shine with earnest appeal, drawing me in. “They know Ari and I went too far physically. They prayed with me and I feel like God’s forgiven me. If Ari will believe me and take me back, my parents have said we can only date in groups.”

  Okay, for the record, I’m not crazy about my pastor knowing these things about my daughter, but I’d bet my laptop he’s telling the truth. “I’ll second that. If she takes you back, group dates only.”

  His eyes widen. “Will you ask her to call me?”

  “I’ll tell her what you’ve told me, and if she believes your story, I’m sure she’ll call.”

  Relief spreads across his face. The bell over the door dings and a customer enters, effectively ending our conversation.

  I give him a tentative smile as I leave. Amazing turn of events.

  The smell of gingerbread cookies wafts through the house on what should have been the last day of school before Christmas break. But a northern air mass collided with a southern storm system, dumping twelve inches of snow on our city and forcing the superintendent of schools to announce a snow day. So Christmas break started one day early. The kids’ll pay for it at the end of the school year by having to make it up, but they’re not thinking about that. Right now, the boys and Greg’s Sadie are outside playing in the snow. Ari has spent the entire day on the phone with Paddy sorting out their love life.

  My big idea to make gingerbread men is paying off in a great-smelling house, and the cookies, cooling on the stove, actually look good enough to eat.

  I’m feeling very June Cleaver-ish, with Christmas music playing throughout the living room and kitchen. I’m getting that picture of Greg and me again. The one where we are married and I’m cooking for him. He adores me. Adores my children, adores that I need to hire a housekeeper (this is my fantasy). Adores my cooking.

  The front door slams, pulling me from the unlikely dream.

  I hurry to the living room. “Tommy, don’t track snow in here. Take off your shoes in the foyer.”

  “Whatever.”

  Uh-oh. “What’s wrong, Toms?”

  “Nothing,” he mutters, but slides down the wall and sits on the floor, his knees pulled up, forearms resting on his knees. His shoes are making puddles
as the snow slides off and melts when it hits the floor.

  I sit on the third step from the bottom. “Come on. Talk to me.”

  He scowls.

  “Jenny Wellington said something that made me mad, so I came in.”

  “The girl you like?”

  He nodded.

  “What did she say?”

  “I’m a freak.”

  “You’re a freak?”

  He nods. “That’s what she said.”

  “When?”

  He jerks his head to the door.

  I get up and go to the door, look out through the little square security window. Holy cow. My yard is swarming with kids of every shape and size. Gulp. “What’d you do, invite the whole school?”

  “They live around here. We started a snowball fight and they just started coming.”

  “Who all is out there?”

  “The Willards from down the block. All three of them. Sam and David from across the street. Jenny and her friend Melody live a block over and heard us. Plus Sadie Lewis, unfortunately.”

  “Oh, be nice to her.”

  “Believe me, I try. It’s not that easy.”

  Sadie is demanding and a bit spoiled. For some reason, Jake puts up with it and they’ve become the best of friends.

  “Well, I think it’s kind of neat that so many of your friends showed up.”

  A shrug lifts his shoulders. “I guess.”

  “So why did this Jenny call you a freak?”

  “Promise not to flip out?”

  What is it with these kids? “I never flip out.”

  “Is that your promise?”

  “Oh, all right. I won’t flip out.” Probably.

  He pulls that fake lip ring from his pocket. “I wear this. And sometimes I wear eyeliner at school. But I’m not gay or anything.”

  Sheesh, who thinks that? I am, however, about six seconds away from flipping out about the lip ring and eyeliner, both of which I’ve forbidden.

  But wait . . .

  “So this Jenny doesn’t like the whole look?”

  He shakes his head. “She said she’d be my girlfriend if I didn’t look like such a freak. Her mom won’t let her go with me.”

  Okay, maybe as a mother I should be ticked about anyone calling my boy such a name. And the girl’s mom? She should be so lucky my son even wants to date her snooty daughter. But back to reality. If his feelings for this girl will wake him up to the error of his ways, I’m all for the little snot calling him a freak.